Something I’ve noticed about teens lately, hanging around them: it’s becoming harder and harder for me to really relate and empathize with their world of  awkward puberty, peer pressure, and among a certain circle: fashion obsession. And it makes me sad to think that we (and I use we because I am not exempt from the lure of the media) now idolize Blair Waldorf and Edward Cullen and goodness knows who else…instead of, well, I don’t know. See? I can’t even name anybody that I feel strongly about–and I’m not even fashionable (meaning I don’t really follow the latest movies/music/clothes). The fact that I can’t name anybody proves my point.

Raising Godly teens is becoming a huge challenge for the modern Christian (especially third generation) family/church. Children follow their parents to church from a young age, they know what they are expected to do, but there are so few people out there to really show them how to connect with God. And they drift away…because, honestly, what’s so good about attending a boring church service, with a God that doesn’t feel real? The secular media does a better job of entertaining, informing, engaging.

If not for the precious little time I spent with my aunt during holidays and books she gave me, I would have been just as lost in my teenage years. Religious, and as lost as anybody else. At least my aunt gave me some hope that there was more to Christianity than the life I knew. In fact, Christianity is life, it is life abundant, we just don’t live it most of the time.

So this holiday, realizing that my sister is growing up and growing up fast, I decided to spend some time each day reading the bible with her and teaching her to do her quiet time. I discovered that there were things she did not know, questions she left unasked because there was simply no one to engage with. I realized I needed to pray for her! Pray for a mentor, and be one to her when I can.

Teens need people to teach them to stand up to peer pressure. They need guidance to navigate the gamut of emotions they feel. And to gain the ‘right’ to teach them, they want to know that you love them, you love spending time with them, you care about what they care about, and that could mean doing a million different things from playing PC games/boardgames, taking them out for trips, playing sports together…some of which you might not particularly enjoy after a tiring day. But if you love your younger sibling/a teenage friend, the best present you can give him/her is not a shiny Christmas gift. It is your time. Your nuggets of life experience. Your little acts of care and concern.

回到亚罗士打，遇见不同的朋友，我面对大家最爱问也是最理所当然的问题: 为什么会突然写一本书？

虽说要给个答案并不难，老实说，有时候听见这个问题的确有点不知所措。人类做事背后的目的毕竟多得很，有些原因是连我们自己都无法理解的。为什么我看了那出戏感动得流泪？为什么这件事情让我那么生气？有时候真的很难解释，不是吗？

我写书，是，是要分享我的经验。是要平服人家对于“模范生饶洁敏”下场的好奇心。可是这又把另一个更大的问题引出来了：为什么我会有这样的念头？而我短短一本没有什么特别指南的书，其实又让别人领悟多少？得到什么益处呢？

有时想到这些问题，我会害怕。我会怕人家期待我告诉他们，我找到了成功的秘方！我找到了重新站起来的勇气！洁敏回来了！可是我没有，我还是我。哈哈。

我听过不少成功人士的见证，都有一种三百六十度，非常辉煌的改变。他们的生活有了转折点！因此，我跌倒之后，当我久久都找不会自己对生活的热忱，我很失意，很灰心。这情况当中，别人很难安慰我，因为别人越告诉我不要放弃，我越觉得自己有问题：怎么就是没有那颗坚强的心呢，怎么找不到转折点？怎么就不能振作起来呢？我觉得自己让他们失望了，而且不知道问题出在哪儿！没有人告诉我，原来这很平常，挣扎很平常，学习是一段漫长的过程！

啊，我写书就是这个原因，我今天才开始学习表达它。可能日后，在寻找自己心灵的当儿又会有什么新发现，哈哈。我猜，或许我写书不是真的要让人家了解我的忧郁症；不是真的为了对教育制度出气；也不是教人家如何克服生活障碍。以上都是一些比较肤浅的原因；它们是我告诉自己告诉别人为什么我写书的原因。

其实对于许多重要课题，我的智慧还渺小，我还在寻找答案。我真正想通过我书说的只是：人生，你不需要知道所有的答案，你也不需要完全掌控或太担心你的生活，都可以抱着希望活下去。耐心等待，谦虚学习，勇于对生活方式作出改变。。。慢慢地，你会走出你的一片天空。我最大的领悟是：这是个非常缓慢的过程。

不用紧张。生活就像考试。当我们终于懂得以轻松的角度面对考试，当成一种学习，它不再是克星。生活也不过如此。

哈哈，怎么今天才开始懂得解释。无论如何，感谢朋友们陆续纷纷的支持，还有如果让任何人失望了，在此表达本人的歉意。

Read Kristia’s note and then come back again. Don’t you love it when people write something insightful that makes you go, “Gee you helped me express what I was only beginning to understand!”? Yep.

It was during the exact same cita-cita session in Aceh that I found myself in a conundrum, and till today, I still feel as if the responsibility lay upon my shoulders to expose the students to professions outside of guru, doktor, and pemain bola. A responsibility I failed to carry out because I didn’t know how to.

I am 20 and I don’t know what I want to be, but I was supposed to give the kids an example anyway. The first thing that came to mind was “journalist” because that’s what I’m studying, but at the moment, I don’t see myself really living out my full potential as a journalist. I don’t have that ‘it’ factor to become the kind of journalist I want to be. Yet.

And then naturally, the 2nd thing that came to mind was “teacher”. I often tell people I want to teach but not be a teacher in the normal sense of the word, but I didn’t think the rural students would be able to understand that. So I just said I wanted to be a teacher. Iko, I still remember your disbelieving expression when I said that! Hahaha. In a way this post is a reply to Iko. Unlike me, Iko said he wanted to become the President of Indonesia. I often wonder if he was trying to broaden their perspectives, trying to help them dream, because after that, when I asked him if that was really true, he said that was just “an answer he gave”.

And then I felt all kinds of things, I wondered if I had just said “ibu guru” to make things simple for a community that was not ready and could not evolve that quickly? Or was I worried that if I said I was gonna be a journalist, the kids wouldn’t know what that was? I don’t know.

Sometimes I wonder how exactly these “what is my ambition?” exercises help kids, when we all already know they’re just drawing the correct answer, something to please the teacher. They can’t possibly know what they want to be at such a young age. Not the slightest idea. It doesn’t change very much, community to community, year after year. How do we get children to understand that there’s no right and wrong? Why are they so afraid? The Acehnese children were afraid, and the children at the orphanage I visited in Puchong were not very much different.

Or maybe there’s no need to spend so much time worrying about the outcome or (in)effectiveness of these exercises? Maybe what’s important is that we breach the subject, and tell them they have a future? At least make them think about it? Give them a reason to work hard? Maybe that’s the point?

Anyway, back to why I wrote this…I LOVE TO TEACH, Iko. Maybe I am not so sure, and that’s why I am writing this. I need to convince myself that the answer I gave you, the kids, and my headmaster 9 years ago was a true answer. My headmaster, by the way, said “You’re so smart. Go be a doctor, use your talents to serve society!” Haha.

Every time I come back home and see the young lives my mum gets to influence and mold through her English lessons, it’s like watching magic happen. When I see their noses buried in books my mother stocks up specially for her children “because some of them are not rich and they don’t get to read a lot of books”, I can see their curiosity piqued, their quest for knowledge encouraged. I love it when I meet children who can see learning as a purely fun process instead of a good, obedient thing to do to earn their parents’ praise and affection (although I’m sure there’s an ounce of this in everyone).

When I hear about how my mum lets her students literally make Chinese buns in her English tuition classes (and eat them afterward)…learn how to do magic tricks…put up sketches…and how her students tell her that they fondly remember all these activities, it’s really watching the classroom come alive! I want to stand up and applaud when my mum addresses bullying and other issues that happen in the lives of her children through her lessons…I find it so exciting that you can make an impact like that. It’s not just English lessons. It’s about lives, lives, lives.

The girl who is a slower learner than others. The boy who has a stomachache every time he’s made to study. The shy, those that can’t speak well. The little improvements they all make. That’s the best thing of all.

And so perhaps it doesn’t look quite feasible to fight the monster called the corrupted and unfair Malaysian Education System. Not if a person of my skin colour becomes a primary or secondary school teacher, no way. See that’s why I don’t want to be a “teacher”. Well I’m still learning more about societal structures and my world and how best I can contribute.

But every teacher can make a difference to every student he or she comes across.

Don’t you dare tell me that doesn’t count for something. And stop saying becoming a teacher is an unambitious dream! To my dear friends involved in education in one way or the other, YOU play a very important part in shaping the next generation. Thank you for stepping up.

I have:

-moved out from Mentari with much difficulty and tension.

-contacted Focus on the Family, SUFES and other parties to carry my book for me

-raised enough money for my building fund pledge!

-run errands (type speeches, teach piano lessons, play driver) for mum. also gone marketing with her and had her lovely pumpkin soup

-talked to Eugene (happy birthday!) and Kah Yong a bit and realized how intelligent they both are (have just been thinking, together, we could start a successful family venture. Ahh, nice dreams )

-gone jogging with J-Anne consistently…until she fell a bit sick. So now I exercise without my self-appointed coach who was inspired by The Biggest Loser to train me.

-found tuition students, now I’m just waiting for them to come back from their holidays.

-read 《结疤后的光彩》by my late teacher 曾文珩老师’s wife 黄丽根, a courageous tale of a strong mother and loving teacher. Especially enjoyed her writings on how she relates, inspires, and teaches her students lessons on love! I smile whenever I think of him. He led a good, sacrificial, and I think, joyous life. A person that loves to give is always a happy person.

Will:

-see Dr. Doreen and do my annual blood test

-do my VISA medical check-up in KL on the 21st.

-visit Aunty Ai Bee with Lydia!

-read more stuff. Seriously I need to stimulate my brain…I feel so stupid and uninformed like a bimbo. Read more stuff to understand my country’s problems better. Read more stuff and think about how to create more platforms to address the chronic boredom among sec school students.

-go swimming.

-research about Adelaide. I want to do a Psych minor but I don’t know if it will work out. Australia has been terribly inefficient in getting back to me.

Am sending my spunky ABC (Australian Born Chinese) cousin to the airport soon. I had a good three days hanging around her. I find her much more critical and well-composed than the average 24 yr old Malaysian youth. She did Mass Comm and International Studies so she could spend a year in Kun Ming to get to know her roots a little better…how cool is that! Even found a Danish boyfriend there and has been backpacking to so many places since then.

What I appreciate most about her is how she takes interest in the lives of family members I hardly care to speak to…even with her limited Mandarin. A breath of fresh air at family gatherings where we talk about nothing substantial. “Our family is so weird! They’re such nice people but why don’t they talk?” she said.

p/s: Did you know I went for an interview at Mediacorp Singapore? I’m remembering the intern I met there who showed poor lost me the way to the Radio Building. When we passed the cleaning lady, she greeted her in a way that says “You’re important and I care about you”. I was impressed…and slightly ashamed because I wasn’t even thinking of looking at the lady. Whoever you are, thank you for showing me my way inside Mediacorp and for reminding me what being human is all about.

请原谅我利用部落格来练习中文。从前那好不容易培养出来的文笔因为久日没去运用而每年越退越糟！

昨天和一班吉圣朋友去看《风云》。电影，除了打打杀杀之外空洞得可悲，我是看到睡着了。但心里还是很高兴，很满意我每个假期还是可以依旧抽出时间去寻找我们之间存有的那份情谊。

从前，每次都不理解大人为什么就是不能抽出那一份小小的时间来和老朋友联络感情，为何纪念册里这么多的‘友谊永固’都无法实现。这个月，因为出版书，不少久违的朋友都纷纷联络我，才发现，一个人忙起来，真的一时之间无法兼顾和维持太多的友谊，在乎太多的朋友！许多人的名字，我记不起也不在乎了；有些人寄电邮来，我也没回复…一天二十四小时，要做的东西却太多了。有些苦衷，真的是长大了，经历了一些事情才会懂，才开始学习处理。

这篇文章，断断续续写了一整天，才写出那么几句话。一会儿妹妹叫我陪她看戏，一会儿陪澳洲回来的表姐去买她需要买的饭锅，衣服，一会儿又和亲戚吃饭…有时候一个星期翻报纸就区区那几次，又如何去掌握国家世界发生的重要课题呢？要深入了解，要思考剖析，太难了。有时候都不敢说自己是念传媒的。

终于，开始体会大人说的：有时候，事业和家庭，难免要选择其一。伟大的人为什么另人钦佩，除了他们的成就外，或许是因为比别人更巧妙地应对生活的要求。

Me and my overexcited voice. Bleargh. It was all so rushed–we recorded halfway through my make-up! But I had fun.

Click on the picture to read the article.

I live in a world that is too small. I wish someone had educated me about this when I was younger…someone had told me that this is NOT inevitable, that we all can play our parts in fighting this, and that I had started learning how to go about doing it at a younger age.

I only knew about two ‘noble’ professions back then: Doctor, and Teacher.

No one told me that brilliant engineers and architects were very much needed to plan and design homes, sewage systems, power grids etc etc in poor areas. I never saw these professions in this light. I never realized the power and influence businessmen could potentially have over people, and how they could use their clout and wealth to impact society. In fact I am only beginning to see a glimpse now.

Perhaps, if I had known all that, I would have been inspired to learn and study with a different passion.

Students today are just plain bored. They are waiting to be inspired, to be told that they are important. They need an important reason to wake up and breathe and fight and live! I wonder what it takes to make us understand we are part of an exciting venture, and that the responsibility lies with us to ensure Malaysia has a bright future? I wonder…

When I was young, we were told to dream, but we were never told why we needed to dream. We only dreamt of a good life for ourselves, and an afterthought known as “helping people”–something we only knew how to carry on our lips, to perhaps comfort ourselves that we were headed for a good life, a correct life. It did not sink deep down into our soul and bubble out as a strong, exciting conviction.

It is sad. Oblivious to the battles taking place all around us, we are missing out on life. In frustration, disillusionment and despair, we are told by the older generation to flee the country for greener pastures…and SADLY, the facts tell us that this is the logical, practical, and smart thing to do.

If your heart is awake, you cannot stand aside without doing anything.

I spent the whole of last night helping mummy clean out our old cupboard to make room for new furniture. We found so much stuff: Eugene’s Power Rangers model which he fixed up in an instant, Happy Meal collectibles which made mummy SO amused I couldn’t believe her, stationery left behind by tuition students enough to last 4 generations, an old essay I wrote about my sister–we all had a good laugh over it, and so many more things that kept us arguing back and forth whether they were worth keeping or not.

It has been a harried month for me. The Change Your World tour—writing and dancing, book sales, responding to different commitments, losing energy and enthusiasm for my assignments…they had started to distress me. I have been tired and as much as I hate to admit–a little low.

What stressed me the most was selling the book as quickly as possible, because I had pledged the profit from my first 200 copies to an important cause that I wanted to give to before I left for Australia, and of course I still needed to pay my publisher. Well, all this stress is ridiculously silly and self-imposed, because I have money in my education fund which my dad said I could tap into because I am filthy rich . But my small mind which must have been wrongly wired somewhere just could not accept that option somehow—it felt like cheating.

Promotion was a lot of work. It stressed and disgusted me. If I ever start a company I will want someone with great salesmanship and PR at my side (I believe my sister is growing up to be the perfect candidate). I just cannot do all that…I guess it’s the lack of confidence, and the absolute fear of people’s response. As the days passed the ability to thicken my skin crumbled and I didn’t want to look at the piles of books in my room anymore. I began to wish I hadn’t sent my script (impulsively?) to the publisher, I began to be convinced that the writing was lousy and maybe I should have said this instead of that, and then perhaps I shouldn’t have revealed so many things about myself, I began to feel vulnerable as I listened to different comments…and for a few moments it seemed I could not remember why I had written the book in the first place.

Proverbs 19:21 Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand.

When I read this on Sunday morning, sitting in the last line of chairs at church, I wept. It’s been a while since God’s word ministered to me so powerfully and just completely overtook my thoughts. I can’t even remember the last unhurried time I had with God…ever since the madness began.

I wept at God’s complete sovereignty…so great such that in the midst of the big questions and struggles of life, His purpose prevails! I saw again, remembered again, that I was so convicted I needed to publish this book, I was looking forward for God to use it to minister to people that need to hear my story. A story that again, shows that God’s purpose always prevails, no matter how much you screw up!

In that instant, all my worry and fear was replaced by a divine trust. An easy peace that does not sigh at the pile of books left in my room any more. Doors will open, people will come. No need for a frenzied rush. If I need money, money will come. If I need intelligence and wisdom and eloquence in speaking, God will give it to me. If I need favour, it will be granted. Whatever God calls me to do with my life, He will equip me adequately. That morning, I really started knowing and believing. I caught the verse, I really just caught it! If you continue reading the chapter, the next verse says…all that is required of you is steadfast love.

My mustard seed faith sprouted its first shoots.

I loved my holiday–which was more of an, I don’t know, effort? Haha. But I did not like Bali. Everyday I announced to the group (my family and dad’s employees) that I’d be staying back at the hotel the next day and watch lotsa TV, only to pull myself together for temples, shopping, haggling, beaches, and lots and lots of scorching sun.

I think I was the most unenthusiastic tourist, and the most stingy one too. =D

But see, the whole point of me coming on this holiday was to spend time with my family–something I don’t do often because I hardly go back, and I totally loved that part. I loved going for the spa (which did not impress me) with mum, loved playing the fool with my sister, loved watching dad eat his durian and stinking up his hotel room, observing him take lots of pictures (which he wants to display at his shop), and looking at the way he enjoyed his Bali coffee.

But I did not get to see crates of Teh Botol stacked up outside every shop…no children running around…no sate kerang, risol, martabak, bakso, and all the Indonesian food I fell in love with during my last trip…what I got was fragments of the mirror that reflected Indonesia: the friendly hotel staff, the Indonesian smile, the persistent peddlars, cries of “Ibu…ibu”…

The rest? All the manicures and pedicures and frangipanis and fake tattoos…I didn’t believe it. Bali became like that for white tourists, I think. And yet when you drive through the streets, you see that the houses are all still so shabby, the people are poor (you can tell from the persistence of the peddlars, some children), power failures are common…they still have a hard life. I’m thinking what if the rural part of Aceh, too, like maybe one of the Tsunami sites, was developed into a tourist destination? Well, at least the people would have more skills, but how fast would things change eh?

OK la the Balinese have their own unique religious culture, their handiwork really impressed me, the scenery was good–but the tourist spots only open when the sun is high up in the sky so how are you supposed to enjoy the environment like that! The Aceh beach was better even with long sweat pants and baggy T-shirts (no sexy swimwear in Aceh, not even shorts)!

Want to go to Aceh next year? Join NDI! The people I met during that trip are people I don’t want to forget. I don’t know, I look up to them…their commitment, amazing. They clearly didn’t go to Aceh just to have a bit of fun…like I did. HAHAHAHAHAHA ;P JK.

Oh one more thing one more thing we met an Indian lady at the airport who is an English teacher and you know what, the conversation we had, the things she told us…that might just be the most memorable thing about my Bali trip. She was so angry with our education system, with the way our country is run. It forced me to see Malaysia for what it really is at the moment. I wished I had gotten her email….potential source for big scoop if and when I become a journalist! If I ever do I wanna become a fierce, Nadeswaran kind of journalist, but I will need lessons in Bully Prevention first.

Alright Bee Sean I’m gonna do the translation for your emotionally charged article now now now now now.